Estuary
by May a Chance
Summary: To the younger, he is the protector, to the older, the successor. Now he cannot protect all he wants to protect, for a younger is in deeper than he. No pairings, T for violence. Hiatus until further notice.
1. Chapter 1: Braided Stream

**I will have all you amazing readers know that I wrote this at a two day volleyball Tournament, so when it's not up to par, blame the Tournament, not me. Okay, maybe that I started this at 'Dig It', but it has been two, maybe three weeks since, but I may have cut my finger and can't type very well, and I may want to finish Etiam Alter Locus before I post anything else, but I did put Domain of Death up, so I'm not quite sure what I'm talking about. I put a challenge up to this idea. It's on DZ2's challenge forum, which has a link to it on DZ2's profile page.**

**For this, I figured I'd explain Harry's appearance in it. In canon, Harry is very pale from so much time inside of a cupboard, but in this Harry is permanently tan, despite both his parents pale complexions. Not to mention, in this, he has spent most of his life in the sun of Long Island. He has curly but tidy, ruffled golden brown hair, with slight, red highlights. His eyes are bright blue, though when Harrry is angry, flashes of green can be seen. Still small and skinny, but more of a lithe skinny than regular skinny. Strong but thin, there.**

**Remember, this is really AU.**

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><p>"And the Hogwarts Chapion is... Cedric Diggory!" A wide grin traced it's way across Cedric's face.<p>

He stood from the table where he had sat to walk fluidly towards Dumbledore, who was holding his slip of paper in the air.

"Congratulations, Mr. Diggory," he siad with a twinkle in his eyes. Cedric curled his lip slightly. He had never liked Dumbledore; he was to manipulative and didn't have an honest bone in hid body.

Already in the side room were Viktor Krum of Durmstrang and Fleur Delacour of Beaubatons.

"Hello," he greeted quietly. Contrary to popular belief, Cedric was quite shy. The rest of the school had already idolized him, and Cedric was just plain shy.

It was after an awkward few minutes of silence that a fourth person entered the room, quickly followed by two professors, two headmasters, and a single headmistress.

The fourth person happened to be a fourth year, one by the name of Harry James Potter. His face was very, very pale, almost porcelain in colouration, something Cedric had long since thought impossible.

The professors were McGonogall and Snape, respectively and not so much.

The headmasters were Karkaroff and Dumbledore, not so respectively for the both of them.

The headmistress seemed painfully obvious, as there was only one on the school grounds, Maxime of Beauxbatons.

"Harry!" Dumbledore's voice held an urgency that did not seem quite right. "Tell me, did you enter your name in the Goblet of Fire?"

Cedric's jaw hit the floor. Gods no, oh holy Greek gods, no. Not Harry.

"Absolutely not," he cut in, saving Harry from having to speak. "Harry would never do that, so don't question him about it."

Cedric had stepped up, resting a hand on the younger teens shoulder, causing some tension to leak from Harry's shoulders. The boy still looker terrified, but less so as Cedric studied his face with concern.

Pale, check. Tousled hair, check. Panicked eyes, check. There was no way Harry had entered. He would not have even considered it.

"Mr. Diggory!" Dumbledore snapped. "This is none of your concern!"

Cedric's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Harry seemed to sense the Protector's quiet anger.

"Anything that threatens Harry is my concern, _Headmaster_. When it comes to those whom I am close to, _everything_ is my concern."

Snape and McGonogall both seemed to shocked to speak, before McGonogall burst out. "Mr. Diggory, this is not of your concern, so kindly back off from my student and mind your own business."

Cedric glowered at her, not moving as Harry began to shrink behind his tall form.

Ever calm, Cedric stared down the aging professor. "Harry is my friend. If this is some plot to kill him, then it concerns me to the upmost." His voice held the same deadly edge as his throwing knives did.

"Now if you will excuse me, my friend clearly does not wish to remain here any longer, so I will go with him."

The friends found the Great Hall completely empty, and Harry collapsed at the Hufflepuff table, trembling. Reaching into his bookbag, Cedric pulled forth a calming draught, convincing Harry to sip at the potion as he began to calm.

"We'll find out who did this, Harry, I promise," Cedric assured the fourth year, but Harry was in his own world.

That was the effect calming draughts had on all demigods. While everyone had their happy place, for demigods that place only existed deep within the subconscious. it was a dangerous place to be, but Harry needed the calm of a twang of a bow's string, and the steady thud as the arrow hit home. The soft lapping of the lake's waves against the beech and the splash of paddles in the water. Clangs from the forge and clashed blades, chirps from the birds and forest animals.

Harry desperately needed the peace of Camp Half-Blood.

So Cedric just rubbed his hand up and down the fourth year's back, As he did so, Cedric thought.

Who other than monsters wanted Harry dead? Was it Voldemort? Thoughts ran through the son of Apollo's head at a million miles an hour.

It wasn't long before Harry fell asleep, head rested on the table.

Cedric sighed, deciding to allow his housemate sleep. Harry never got enough sleep, not since he was seven or eight at least, so when he decided it was time to sleep, it was time to sleep. Nothing could change that. It was entirely possible that Harry wouldn't wake for twenty-four hours or so, which decreed the best place for him as the hospital wing. Of course, Harry would kill him for it, but the idea of sleepless-Harry resting was too much to resist, so Cedric carried his friend up the few flights of stairs to where that particular wing lay.

"Madame Pomfrey," Cedric greeted the one teacher aside from Professor Sprout whom Cedric sincerely didn't mind. "He'll be out for at least twelve hours, probably more like twenty-four, at most forty-eight. I figured he'd be better off here than in Hufflepuff."

Madame Pomfrey nodded, gesturing to the bed that had nearly had 'Harry James Potter' plaqued onto it.

Not long later, Cedric was forced to leave with a sleeping draught, and specific orders to take it as soon as he returned to his dorms. And, of course, the assurance that Harry would be just fine.

Much to all the Hogwarts Halflings surprise (they had met in the R.O.R. on November first), it was three, nearling four, days until Harry next woke, for once, calm and refreshed.

The Hogwarts Halflings, as their ancient group of Hogwartian demigods was called, agreed that they were not going to let Harry compete.

In seventh year the Halfling was Ravenclaw Aima Volca, daughter of Athena and the annoying Gryffindor, Falkner Johnson, son of Hermes. From sixth was, of course, Cedric, son of Apollo, Divia Rivia, Cedric's half-sister and Meranda Gardiner, daughter of Demeter. Fifth year was fortunate to have Maeva Rowan, daughter of Hecate, Antonio of Rafael (Rocky) Conjehos, sons of Hephaestus. Fourth year was blessed to have Harry, son of Apollo, Neville Longbottom, son of Demeter, and Ella Monet, daughter of Hecate. In third year was Romilda Vane, daughter of Aphrodite and Ash Ashton, son of Hecate. In the second year was Ingrid Ellington, daughter of Athena, Oliver Metos, son of Hermes and Connor Rivers, son of Hermes. In first year, Henry Benday, son of Athena, Alayca Mondoba, daughter of Hephaestus, and Albert Enchton, son of Athena.

The narrator decrees that that is more demigods than should be in one place, but the narrator will make do.

The meeting following Harry's awakening, the Halflings met up to decide how to go about getting Harry out of competing.

"Refuse!" Romilda screeched like only a child of Aphrodite could.

Meranda murmured quietly, "That would tear his magic from his body."

The Apollo's were all feeling fiercely protective of their younger brother, thought that they could 'kidnap' Harry for the year.

It was Aima who came up with the only good idea. "If Harry doesn't compete, he'll probably be killed by the Goblet tearing the magic from him. Kidnapping would be the same as refusing; likely death. I reckon the closest we can get to Harry not competing is to have him team up with Cedric. They would be fighting as one entry, then, which would make it easier for the both of them. With higher chances of survival, too. I reckon that is our best bet."

Aima's face was grim as she spoke. It took a quick vote of sixteen to three for them to decide that the two sons of Apollo would compete as one team, both voting with the sixteen.

T'was decided, and they would confirm it later that day, at dinner.

So they did.

Dumbledore had decided that a decision must be made on what they were to do about their forth champion. But Harry and Cedric already knew the answer.

"Harry and I have agreed that we'll team up. There are special surcumstances for forth champions, and any other extra champions. If an official competitor agrees, the forth can team up with one of them. I have agreed to having Harry on my team." Cedric's strong jaw was set. There was no telling him no.

But Dumbles still tried. "Mr. Diggory, those-"

"I don't give a rat's tail for what you have to say!" He spat in annoyance. "I am taking my honorary brother as my team-member, and nothing you can say will change that." Cedric turned his fierce and protective gaze over the tables. "I, Cedric Fidelus Diggory, agree to Harry James Potter teaming with me in the Triwizard Tournament."

The statement caused soft swirls of a soft orange to twirl from the wand Cedric had gripped in his hand.

Harry then whispered his part. "I, Harry James Potter, agree to join Cedric Fidelus Diggory's team."

His own wand swirled with a darker red magic, before both strands dissipated.

Dumbledore looked horrified by what had just happened. How dare they! No one crossed the great Albus-too-many-names-Dumbledore!

Yet some how, two mere students had managed to. It did not happen!

Dumbledore glared at the Hogwarts champions, both of whom wore fake innocent expressions.

Very good fake innocent expressions.

Harry's eyes were widened and blinking owlishly, with his red-brown hair tousled and small size, it was very easy for him to pull off innocent.

The fourth year's older brother had a bit more trouble, but managed an expression of 'who, me?' perfectly. The casual stance threw Dumbles off a bit.

"You are to respect your Headmaster!" Dumbledore snapped, completely dropping his grandfather façade.

"And you, _Albus_, are to respect your students!" Divia stepped in, fiercely defending her brothers. They were total idiots in the female demigods mind. "Besides, our Headmaster isn't even present."

The Halflings were considered exchange students from a year-round school in the US called Silveste Academy. Their Headmaster was Mr. D, and deputy head, Chiron, or Mr. Brunner.

It gave the Halflings more room to operate to keep each other safe.

A heavy silence followed the statement. It was well known that the Halflings (or as the magicals called them, the Acads) did not consider Dumbledore their Headmaster.

Within a few minutes, Dumbledore was dealing with a full blown rebellion from the Halflings, all threatening to call in their Headmaster, a very unpleasant man who was only at Hogwarts once a year. What scared Dumbles even more was the threat of Chiron Brunner, the deputy head, coming.

Chiron was very protective of all his students and trained them to be the best. Chiron trained his students fiercely, but every student excelled easily.

"Come on, guys. Let's go call Mr. Brunner and Mr. D," said the youngest halfling, Albert Enchton.

All the blood drained from Dumbles face and he immediately backed off, shoulders slumping in annoyance and defeat. "You win this one, Acads."

November rolled around all to quickly, and through extensive research, knew that the first task would involve a monster of some format.

Dragons seemed to be a popular choice for the First Task, along with minoutar like creatures, which were essentially large, magic resistant bulls.

The creature would be guarding something, a clue of some format, that the champions had to find.

While they did not know what the creature would be, neither Cedric nor Harry really needed to know what it was. So long as they had a bow, a quiver full of arrows and a fair amount of throwing knives, they did not need anything else.

So when it rolled 'round to the twenty-fourth, the two siblings were not in the slightest surprised to learn that the first task required you to retrieve a golden egg from a nesting dragon. You were not allowed to kill the dragon, which threw a hole in the Apollo brothers' plans.

So they settled for plan B.

Only children of Zeus were perfect fliers, but children of Apollo could come pretty close. Especially on a warm, sunny day like that one. Both were excellent seekers, but also excelled in all classes, as was required of them as protector and successor. Flying would infuriate the dragon. It was safer to sneak up.

Fleur Delacour drew first.

"The Common Welsh Green," stated Ludo Bagman, the man who had received a few too many bludgers to the head.

Then Krum drew the Chinese Fireball.

Cedric strong-armed Harry into drawing for them, and came up with the tiny model Swedish Shortsnout. Not a quick dragon, but more maneuverable than most. It was also a small dragon.

The tiny model blew a puff of fire at Harry's face, and while it made Harry flinch back, it didn't even touch him.

Fleur went first, and ten minutes later the Beaubatons champion had finished.

It was Harry and Cedric's turn then, and neither was actually nervous, just faking it.

But as soon as they were in the arena and had spotted the dragon, Harry had to force himself not to double over laughing.

The 'deadly dragon' looked like a little kitten compared to the drakon that their brother, Lee Fletcher, had showed them a photo of.

The Shortsnout had dark, blood-red scales and fiery yellow eyes, all of which would have been intimidating if the sons of Apollo hadn't seen the photo that Lee sent them.

Not even needing to talk they knew each other so well, Cedric took point of distracting the dragon, while Harry would get the golden egg.

Picking up a small, round pebble, Cedric turned it in his fingers for a moment before taking aim at a gap in the dragon's scales.

A roar of agony followed as the small pebble caught between the scales.

Harry had made progress with the silencing and disillusionment charms Cedric had placed on him.

Another stone, this one bigger, was thrown, catching the dragon's claws. Another roar followed, before an even louder roar as someone snatched the egg from the dragon's nest.

The mother hen swiped angrily at where she thought the perpetrator was, but Cedric could not tell if she had scraped his brother or not.

Harry darted away, quick as a cat, to rejoin his brother, who quickly undid the silencing and disillusionment charms before both hurried away from the angry dragon to where the exit was.

Only when Harry was about to collapse did Cedric realize he had been hit by something. The fourth year crumpled to the floor, his brother kneeling over his small form.

Harry's Hufflepuff-coloured tunic was torn and splattered with blood. He crumpled to the ground, and Madame Pomfrey rushed over, but Cedric was already in motion.

He tore away what remained of Harry's Greek-styled, Hufflepuff-coloured tunic to reveal three long, oozing, burned scrapes down the boy's side.

"Oh dear gods," Cedric whispered, having never healed anything worse than a the bleeding wound from a sword.

Harry moaned in agony, his mental defences that kept the pain out having collapsed entirely.

Divia and the other Halflings were all hurrying to where Harry lay, carrying flasks of nectar and bags of ambrosia. Cedric blocked Madame Pomfrey off as he poured a generous amount of nectar onto Harry's side, and the boy moaned softly as the wound numbed. Part of Cedric's cover story was that he was specifically trained in healing, along with Divia and Harry. The tall teen had never had to do much healing, since Chiron was better at it then he, but he could heal anything with enough time and effort put in.

"There," Cedric mumbled softly as he poured a bit more nectar into the fourth year's mouth, sliding a hand along his throat.

Slowly, the wound began to knit itself together again, and Cedric whispered a prayer to his father.

As Harry began to regain consciousness, Cedric slowly cajoled a small piece of ambrosia down the younger son of Apollo's throat.

Sighs of relief sounded from all the Halflings as Harry slowly sat up, mumbling "What happened?" as he did so.

Cedric sighed. Of course. Why was it always Harry?

Only then did the strong sixth year allow Madame Pomfrey to go at his brother.

The overbearing healer immediately was throwing diagnosis spells on Harry and berating and blinding the Halflings at the same time.

"Mr. Diggory!" She screeched at Cedric, "How dare you not allow me to treat Mr. Potter! He could have died!"

Said Diggory rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Shut up. We both know that I am just as in tune with healing magics as you are, and if not better. Healing is in my blood."

Pomfrey continued to screech while Harry regained his bearings and was wrapped in a hug from Divia. The brunette daughter of Apollo, who looked farely similar to her brothers, had always been fond of the boy whom had guided her and Cedric around the Camp when they were ten (the Rivia and Diggory family were close, so the siblings had been as close as siblings before they knew that they _were _siblings. How confusing is that!?).

With an arm curled around her brother's shoulders, Divia began to guide the young son of Apollo up to the stands, where points would be announced.

Albert and Alayca bounced along next to Cedric as he followed his siblings into the light.

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><p><strong>Please suggest a title for this.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2: Aeration

**I love you guys, seriously love you. I mean, in the first eight hours or so, I had like, seven follows and three faves. Now, as I begin writing this this October eighteenth of 2014, I have six faves and thirteen follows, a new record for my stories. Dude, that is flipping awesome! Thank you, thank you, thank you! *rants for an hour about how awesome you guys are***

**A special thanks to percyjacksonfan13 who is the first one and currently only one to have reviewed this story, so they are officially awesome, can I just say.**

**What do you guys think of my OC demigods? I needed people around to support Harry. Divia is really overprotective of her family, and worries about Harry and Cedric way too much for it to be healthy. Aima is the oldest and most resonsible and is very protective of the younger demigods. Albert is most prone to this protectiveness from the older demigods. He is the youngest. Poor guy. No, seriously. His family must be so protective since he's the youngest.**

**A huge thanks go to all my teammates for helping me name my chracters. I didn't have access to a name generator, and wanted to make Albert's lastname Einstein.**

**To clear it up, Harry is a Hufflepuff in this story. Seriosuly, what about Apollo just doesn't scream Hufflepuff at you. He's a fun-loving dude who's casual and relaxed, eternally loyal to his sister and eternally hard-working at being better than his sister.**

**Harry=Hufflepuff in this story.**

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><p>Leaning against his sister's shoulder, Harry allowed himself to be led into the light with his family following behind them.<p>

His cousin once removed, Neville, had taken to teasing Ella and Ash, the children of Hecate who were pretty much prodigies. The whole family was so relaxed, all the time.

A yawn passed through Harry as he leaned slightly more heavily on Divia, who just laughed and squeazed his shoulder gently.

"Just wait for the points to be announced, Little Archer. Then you can go sleep."

Harry mumbled a soft agreement, already half asleep.

"For Misters Diggory and Potter, we award thirty-five points. We have taken five off for being cowardly, five off for a potentially life threatening injury, and five points off for being slow."

It was Dumbledore who announced that. He must have decided that because the demigod siblings had teamed, they were not worthy of a high score, and it must have been easy to convince the other head of schools the same. They each wanted their champion to win.

"Boo!" Divia shouted, causing Harry to jerk to attention from his near-asleep state.

Cedric was frowning with stern disaproval at Dumbledore, who wore a vindictive smirk beneath his halfmoon glasses which honestly just made him look _ancient_, which of course, Dumbledore was.

A ripple of loud disaproval raced through the crowd, save for foriegn students who wore the same smirks as Dumbledore. They cheered loudly for the decision.

Even Harry, who was asleep on his feet, was frowning in confusion, while trying not to seem overly proud (it was very difficult). That placed them in last, for Krum had 48 points and Delacour 43. They were behind by a very large amount.

Of course the brothers could understand losing points for injuries, but the the other losses were extreme. Honestly, cowardly? Their strategy had simply been smart. And slow? That one was ridiculour. They had the quickest time of any of the champions. Honestly, Dumbledore made no sense some time.

Harry had always excelled in the art of stealth, making him both quick and silent. It had taken the brunet boy at most two minutes to snatch the egg, and less than twenty seconds to return.

A total of no more than four minutes, though more likely two and a half.

A Gryffindor shouted out, "I may not like Diggory or Potter, but they are still represtenting us!"

A Slytherin (shock of all shocks) nodded in agreement, looking as though she was trying to climb over her housemates to be able to kill Dumbledore.

The 'Puffs were in fullout rebellion and roaring their disaproval.

Even a few tomatoes could be seen flying through the crowds, to howls of annoyance from those whom the tomatoes hit.

Overall, it looked like some sort of Great Hall food fight. Or Pavilion. Or cafeteria. Or- you get the point.

A immense, insane foodfight, in which it was everyone against the professors.

Ludo Bagman bounded up to Harry, who was still leaning against Divia, laughing insanely.

"Excellent display, Harry! You got the next Task worked out? How did you get past the dragon? Are you hurt?" He continued to fire questions like mad, and the small fourth year simply looked at him with an expression of half understanding and half absolute confusion.

"Mr. Bagman," Divia stated in uncharacteristic coldeness, "you are not close to Harry, nor are you family, so you do _not_ have the right to adress him as 'Harry'! And if you did not notice, the poor kid is exhausted!"

Harry had an immense surplus of energy while he or others were in danger, the adrenaline rush, but as soon as the fight was over, he crashed, almost as though he had taken the Curse of Achilles, which he hadn't. It was simply how his mind worked. Besides, he never rested enough under normal circumstances, so after he had been in a battle, it was ridiculous.

Well, not entirely.

Camp Half-blood was the only place that Cedric had ever seen his brother sleep soundly. The tiny boy would exhaust himself with hours of swordfighting, archery work and time in the fields. At meals he could be seen cracking jokes to the younger Apollo campers. Eight year old Will Solace loved the stories that Harry would tell during breakfast, while ten year old and magical Ilsa Promise preferred the old wizard stories that were passed down by generations of storytellers. The Tale of the Three Brothers was her and everyone else's favourite above all.

Ilsa was probably going to be the protector after Harry, though with a substitute in the middle somewhere.

Back to the present.

Bagman glared at Divia. The average height Gryffindor glared at him, venom in her eyes, not at all intimidated by the too-many-bludgers-to-the-head announcer.

"Well," Bagman stated sassily, "I don't see why _you_ have any right to call the Boy-Who-Lived by his first name."

Thinking he had won, the idiots chest puffed up with pride.

Then Divia bit back, glowing slightly with her power. "Mr. Bagman," had her voice been a temperature, the next ice age would have hit hard. "How _dare_ you insult me. I have known Harry since he was eight. I've been there for him. Where were _you_ during the heir-of-Slytherin fiasco? When he nearly had his head chopped off by Fluffy? Huh, huh!? That's right! Not you, us! The whole lot of us Acads have always helped Harry when he needed it! Because we knew he would do the same for us! You, Mr. Bagman, have never even spoken to Harry before today, would _not_ risk your life for his, nor would Harry do so for you! So back off and go die in a whole!"

Bagman took her words literally, turning, falling over his feet, and running off.

Divia nodded proudly before turning back to shouting at Dumbledore.

"Vee," Cedric said softly from just behind her. "Don't give him the satisfaction of annoying us. Just let it slide. Currently, I don't care if we win, just so long as everyone makes it out alive. Let's get Harry back to the castle. Along with everyone else. I think we may have traumatized Albert. Poor kidlet."

Poor Albert indeed. The blond-haired boy shot Cedric a slightly annoyed glance, as if to say 'you can't be serious'. In response he only received a gentle hair-ruffle, much to Albert's annoyance. Did Cedric know how long it had taken him to get his hair into such pristine condition? Oh, right, he wasn't Draco Malfoy. About, ehm, umm, err, oh, right, zero minutes and zero seconds, perhaps?

The small boy grinned mentally, while keeping up the facade of annoyance. He did have to survive, didn't he?


End file.
